


It's Complicated

by Dragestil



Series: Lightning in the City [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: DFaB Strife, Gen, Trans Male Character, Urban Magic Yogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragestil/pseuds/Dragestil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strife struggles with understanding just what he feels for his mentor - even knowing he is being used to attain more power. Confrontation cannot be avoided forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Complicated

In Kirin’s domain, time was irrelevant. Days flickered by in blinks of the eye and then stretched on for eternities. Strife stopped noticing quickly enough. Whatever time he passed with the sidhe, it was constantly filled with activity. He was learning - learning about his abilities, his limits, the city, the fae, urban horticulture, everything.

Still, he knew precious little about his suspiciously magnanimous host, though he had grown perhaps too comfortable in the presence of the towering man. When he was away - for check-ups at the clinic or to run errands - he found himself wondering what Kirin might have to say about those people or these hastily scrawled runes. At last, he had had enough of the endless confusion.

“Kirin!” he called from the kitchen at the end of a lazy day tending to the sidhe’s many plants and balancing his (seriously neglected) finances.

“You rang?” Kirin replied, appearing effortlessly in the doorway and filling the room with his presence.

“We need to talk.”

“About your training? That is going splendidly. We might make a first class technomancer out of you yet.”

“Don’t,” Strife took a deep breath and rubbed at the space between his eyes, “don’t patronise me, Kirin.”

“If you insist...Tell me what has you so perplexed. Have I not held up all my parts of the contract? Have I not given you all that I said I would? _Still_ you refuse to place any faith in me.”

“Don’t act so innocent!” the younger man said, wincing when his voice cracked mid-sentence. “I know you must be doing something to me. I can’t even tell what day it is half of the time:”

“Shockingly, that is called ‘having fun’ and, despite what it may seem like to you, is perfectly normal. Don’t you feel so much more fulfilled here?”

Strife crossed his arms defensively over his chest - if only to keep himself from fiddling with his fingers. He had worked so hard to keep Kirin as distanced as possible. All he wanted was to know what made the sidhe tick though.

“If you tell me why I’m here, I’ll consider trusting you. And the real reason, not just that some guy decided he’d send me your way. I know there’s more to it than that.”

“Sit,” Kirin said, and the command in his voice did not escape Strife.

The table suddenly felt too small to the technomancer, and the air too charged. Perhaps he hadn’t been expecting any sort of real response. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted one. It would have certainly been easier to continue to keep Kirin at arm’s length if he had refused this request. Instead, though, Strife found himself sitting with the fae much too close. He didn’t know when his heart started racing, but it was. An impenetrable gaze had him immobilised.

“You are here because an oracle let too much slip. You are here because you bring near limitless potential. You are here because I want you here, and I am a sidhe lord, and I get what I want.” Kirin allowed Strife a moment to digest the information. “I will always seek power, whether it comes in the form of wealth, political positions, or a lost technomancer.”

“So I’m just a pawn in your schemes then? A puppet of the great and powerful Kirin?” Strife’s voice was hoarse, though he couldn’t definitively say whether it was from his growing frustration or the hormones working from the inside out to change him.

“Sit back down,” Kirin said, and the technomancer realised with a start that he had stood up.

“Why? I think we are done here. I accepted the terms of the contract already, so you’ll still get to use me until I’m done with my training. After that, you’ll need to find someone else to play with.”

Strife didn’t know why he was so angry. It was nothing that he couldn’t have guessed from the start really. Of course Kirin was keeping him around to further his own agenda. That was business after all. It stung nonetheless, and Strife glared at the sidhe even as he turned away. A strong hand sent electric ripples through his entire body as it grabbed his arm.

“Will.”

And it made him stop - the shock and the way Kirin’s voice had gone quiet. It wasn’t the menacing sort of quiet either. It was solemn but crisp, lacking any of the familiar tugs of fae magic he had become accustomed to. The technomancer looked over his shoulder.

“What?”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“I don’t think I need to,” Strife answered with a bitterness that drew his lips together in a tight line. He had gone beyond caring about his childishness. Internally, he blamed it on his second puberty and hoped it would absolve him of responsibility.

“Your training is done,” Kirin said shortly, watching the disbelief register on the younger man’s face.

“ _What_?”

“If you will not trust me, there is nothing more I can teach you. You have always known this deal was reciprocal. If you cannot tolerate the cost, I will release you from the contract, but your education will be finished.”

“I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what? Expect me to tell the truth?” the sidhe laughed, and it was cold and clear and very nearly _cruel_.

For the first time in many months, Strife was reminded of Kirin’s power, especially in his own home. The technomancer’s skin crawled as he wished he was anywhere but there. He bit his lip, looking away. He didn’t have an answer, not one that he cared to say out loud at least. Admitting that he had grown to admire his mentor was not an option. The stalemate was only broken by the first rumbles of a storm growing outside.

“Ask me again why you are here, William.”

“Why am I here?”

“Because I desire your presence. Your assistance has proven invaluable during this apprenticeship, and your personality is at least largely tolerable. You are clever - with both your technomancy and your general knowledge. You are,” he paused, and Strife swore he saw what could only be described as a touch of _humanity_ in the sidhe, “a welcome addition to my household.”

Despite the storm-charged air, the palpable tension between the two had dissipated. Kirin’s hand was loose where it curled around Strife’s arm. The young man was no longer calculating just how long he would have to run before the fae stopped him - temporarily or otherwise. He offered a small smile that lingered in his eyes.

“Gods, Kirin, what’s gotten into you?”

“Certainly not _you_.”

Strife flushed so fully that Kirin couldn’t help but laugh. He knew the conversation had only been momentarily halted, that Strife would come back to it. He knew that he would have to be honest about his motives eventually. But for now, he was pleased that Strife no longer hummed with static.

“You can let go of me now,” Will said, though the way his heart raced made it hard to tell whether he honestly wanted the sidhe to or not.

“I _can_ , of course, but why would I let my little apprentice go?”


End file.
